


No Bloody Ducks

by Sherlock1110



Series: Random one shots [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humour, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: Sherlock hasn’t left the flat for days because of a case. John takes him to the park and things go down hill from there.





	No Bloody Ducks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariaWASD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariaWASD/gifts).



> Gifted to MariaWASD just because!
> 
>  
> 
> Beta read by sherlockian4ever

“I can’t believe you’ve made me sit in the park for this bloody case.”

John snorted. “You said yourself, you did not need to be in the flat for it. And you haven’t taken a step outside in days.”

“Yes but look around, John. There’s people. Lots of people and children and dogs and bloody ducks that won’t shut up.”

“Why don’t you just shut up, sit there, type up whatever it is you need to and I’ll get some drinks.”

“And cake!” Sherlock yelled out after him. He was not being forced to work in a park without something to keep him going.

When John got back, carrying a tray of tea and cake, as well as a paper bag full of duck food that was free with drinks, Sherlock wasn’t in sight.

At least, not until he put the tray down on the table and Sherlock’s head hit the bottom of it with a thud.

John winced in sympathy as the detective untangled himself from the bottom of the table.

“What you doing down there?”

Sherlock was rubbing the back of his head as he sat down. He didnt speak, just snatched up a chunk of cake.

“Are you going to speak?”

“The memory chip,” Sherlock hissed, chomping on the cake. “I dropped it and that bloody duck has it.”

John snorted, glad he didn't have a mouth of tea when he did.

“No it doesn’t. It’s probably just on the ground.”

“What do you think I was doing?” Sherlock grumbled, going back to rubbing the back of his head. “The duck was nearby, I dropped a shiny thing and it ate it. Now catch that bloody duck.”

At that, John burst out laughing. “You are incredible.”

“Shut up.”

He got to his feet and stalked after the ducks. They all quacked and flapped away across the lake.

“You won’t catch it like that!” John couldn’t stop laughing. “Sit down.”

Huffing, the detective turned on his toe and fell on the bench opposite John.

“Alright then, soldier boy, how do I catch the bloody duck? Shoot it?”

“No. You are not shooting local wildlife, especially not in front of children.” He grabbed the paper bag of duck food and dumped it across the table. “Wait until they aren’t half scared to death and get back out of the water.”

“I can’t bloody believe this. It’s your fault the stupid duck has the bloody thing in the first place.”

John couldn’t help himself laughing again, not just at Sherlock’s words but the look on his face as he said. “Are you 3 years old?” He reached across the table and pecked the pout from Sherlock’s lips.

“It’s still your fault. There was nothing wrong with working in Baker Street. Where there were no bloody ducks.”

***

It was half an hour later. Sherlock was on his knees, his bespoke suit covered in mud as he flicked food out in front of him. One duck, that wasn’t the one Sherlock was after, was too friendly. It kept getting so close, the detective could feed it from his hands.

“Go and tell your mate to come over here for some of this lovely shit food.”

John was snorting behind him, “You just contradicted yourself oh mighty consulting detective.”

“I don’t care! I want that bloody duck!”

“Well the bloody duck doesn’t want you. But I do. So get your arse over here.”

With a slight pause to think it through, Sherlock turned his attention to the doctor.

“You do realise I have a copy of that memory chip at home?” John pointed out when Sherlock fell on his lap. “And the case notes.”

“What?” The detective looked incredulous.

“I make copies of everything. I must admit, this wasn’t what I had in mind for you needing them.”

Sherlock glared and he did it with the same pout he had earlier.

John just snorted. “I started it when you started using case notes as cup holders and experiments.”

“How is it even possible to hate and love you at the same time?” Sherlock just dropped his head to the doctor’s shoulder. “I could get used to this.”


End file.
